


Why Didn't You Love Me?

by HeartsAndSpades



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Amazingphil - Freeform, Break Up, Cheating, Daniel Howell - Freeform, High School, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phandom - Freeform, Phanfiction, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Triggers, danisnotonfire - Freeform, good luck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 23:12:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12898890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartsAndSpades/pseuds/HeartsAndSpades
Summary: Dan and Phil had the perfect relationship, what went wrong?





	Why Didn't You Love Me?

Me and Phil had a relationship unlike anything else, I loved him like nobody ever before. We go together like two. He was my life, I adored the way his lips always tasted distinctly of cigarette smoke and sour.   
He reminded me of a drug, he was addictive. He did everything right, he understood me like No one ever had. He was like a lifeline, he knew what to do when I was in pain. Never did I ever think about how much pain he was in.  
If I would've searched deeper, I would have seen the whip marks on his pale back that blended as if nothing his beneath his dark coloured shirts. I fucking wish I noticed the way his eyes always paced back and forth like he was frightened of something.   
He was my protector, he stopped the demons from poisoning my thoughts. He stopped the ink from staining the pages. He kept the flood gates closed. He kept everything together. His feelings were strong toward me, a fool could tell that. His eyes always shown of love and adoration. He was fond, never loud or rude like he was with others.   
His leather jacket sent tickled through my stomach, not shivers up my spine. His jaw made me want to leave marks all over his neck, not sharp like a knife. He was perfect, to me, to others he was a distant asshole that nobody knew or hoped to ever catch a glimpse of.  
Phil Lester was a string of lights that never ended, i could follow the yellow tones to the end of the earth. Though Never ending was confusion that I could never fathom to understand.   
Phil was always laced with blades that cut too deep. If I would've known I would have Dulled those blades that stabbed through his heart and soul. I could've stopped them from tearing Phil apart from the inside out.  
He pretended like everything was fine, that he wasn't decaying at the seams. I never knew what was happening, love drunk and mindless as I was.   
One day I walked into the school building, my high tops tapping gently against the stone floors with every careful step. Phil wasn't waiting for me by the gates like usual. I had waited for 5 or 10 minutes before heading into the school.  
I assumed he was late, it wasn't unlike him. Sometimes he went to parties too late and got slightly too drunk. His words could still be slurred as he tried to figure things out and i wouldn't have a clue.   
As I wandered deeper into the prison halls of the school. I saw him, Phil, but it wasn't Phil that I saw.  
It was his body, his features, his outfit, his gorgeous voice that shook your lungs, it looked to be Phil Lester in the flesh, but it couldn't be him.   
Phil Lester’s perfectly pink and thin lips weren't speaking, they were locked with a tall, thin, blondes.   
I stood there shell shocked. I couldn't believe my eyes. My Phil, wasn't mine by the looks of it. I stared for too long, my mind swirled endlessly in seconds, my mind trying to draw conclusions that wouldn't break me was starting to seem more.impossible by the seconds that Phil kept kissing this...this whore.   
I was stuck. Trapped in between moving and screaming. Bolting and crying. Nothing quite fit.   
Phil Lester, what an interesting person he was. His face was that of a statue, his personality was softer than you could ever imagine. He was the kindest soul I ever knew, my heart ached with the feeling of loss.  
My legs felt like jello, yet no matter how much they felt as if they were gonna give out any second, I tugged them forward. I was walking straight into a world of destruction, at that moment in time, I needed something, a word, an explanation, anything would do.   
Once I was stood right behind my love, he pulled back from the mysterious human.   
He turned around, as if he were in slow motion, I saw his face turn from a confident and sexy smirk into a sour Straight line.   
He looked as if he could care less and wanted to punch me right then and there.   
“Phil, why would you…..what made you...please explain.” I stuttered out. My lips trembled, my eyes brimmed with a crimson colour.  
“Explain what?” He asked, that horrid smirk appearing back on those same lips that were just conjoined with another.   
I couldn't understand what was happening, nothing made sense, where was my Phil? What happened? I needed something, anything to grasp onto.   
“Who was that and why were you….why were you kissing her?” I asked.   
“Sarah, and why would it matter to you, it's not like you have the right to care.” He scoffed, his eyes narrow. The beautiful blue orbs that I had grown to love burned holes of pure hatred through my entire being.  
“what do you mean? I'm your...i'm your boyfriend. We tell each other everything...why would you do that? I don't….don't understand” I started to sniffle. Snot starting to clog my nostrils.   
“My boyfriend, what a fucking joke.” He grumbled, pushing past me, walking away, not taking a single look back.   
I had just gotten here, but I wanted to turn around and run out the front doors and never look back. I wanted to scream,but I had no clue why Phil was so angry, so full of rage.  
I hadn't done anything, in my opinion i didn't deserve to see Phil's lips that I lived to taste hastily mush against someone I had no reconciliation of.   
Everything was words trying to make sense Inside my skull.  
I gave up, ever fiber of my being saying to leave.  
I ran out the doors, tears staining my cheeks. Scars still imprinted fresh on my heart.   
Nothing made any fucking sense!  
I kept running. Screams came from my mind, deafening me almost.   
I collapsed after I made it into the woods across from the school. The woods where me and Phil would sometimes go to when we skipped, where we would kiss and be in love.  
The more i imagined it, the more his kisses seemed toxic to the touch.   
Funny how opinions can change in seconds.   
I was a broken mess, shattered glass that slipped and cracked apart into thousands of pieces.  
To this day in still a shattered mess, but we don't mention that, it's just words on another page that you forgot to read.   
Phil Lester, a name that used to send butterflies to my chest now was words that sliced me like knives.   
After that fateful day, Phil Lester still made out with whores in the halls of the high school. He still smoked a pack a day. He still was an animal at a party.   
The only thing that changed was that Phil Lester left me. He never showed a care toward me after that, as if he didn't know me, like I was just a stranger.  
He made it seem like he didn't know my deepest secrets, he acted like he didn't take my virginity on my sixteenth birthday. He moved on in a way. That only made me more of a disaster .   
Everything got worse without Phil, I was drowning in nothingness. My grades that were once straight A’s, now were lucky to be D’s. My life did a 180. It plummeted like I couldn't have ever imagined.  
Without my protector, people started to pick on me, punch me, kick me, hurt me, abuse me. My body was now a disarray of bruises and dried blood. Being gay wasn't something to be proud of anymore, it was something to be punished for. At least by the looks of it.   
Phil still carried on, never blinking an eye at me when I limped through the entirety of a day. He didn't change a bit.   
My family of whom I always wanted to escape from started to take more if a toll on me than they ever had. They screamed at me about school, about my behavior, about how I was failing the family and making a fool of them.   
They compared me to my elder brother, saying how perfect he was and how i could never be like him with my arrogant ways.   
That's when the scars started to litter my arms. My right arm being a constant sea of bloody marks and cuts.   
Every night at least one would be added to my collection. They always rubbed against my long sleeve shirts. Whenever someone touched my arms, I would flinch away, in my mind i deserved every minute of it. I deserved the burn and feeling of self worthlessness.   
I cried every single night before bed. Sleep started to become impossible. My mind never shut down. Dark circles constantly surrounded my bloodshot eyes. Everyone who saw me acted like nothing was wrong, like they couldn't see me withering away.   
One day, I sat home alone, staring at the ceiling as if it would make things better. At this point months of pain had passed. I was just a shell if what used to be a happy, flamboyant, boy.   
I spotted my pocket knife that my dad got me for Christmas years ago sitting in my dresser drawer. It called my name, it drew my to itself.  
I swiftly flicked it open. A sharp metal blade, long and dangerous cut through the air. A sick and twisted smile placed itself on my face. I hadn't smiled in months.   
I walked into the bathroom, knife still in hand. I locked the door behind me. I twisted the knob of the bathtub, it filled slowly, but steadily.  
I undressed myself. Ever since the day, I didn't eat like I used to. Hunger didn't affect me, maybe if I was thinner Phil would want me back. I looked at myself in the mirror. My ribs shown a bit. My skin didn't have an area without bruising and marks. My arms looked like someone took sharp whip and tossed it all over them.   
I looked ugly, my face was pale with circles big enough to capture the moon. My hair was a bit too long and Greasy. I would sometimes straighten it, but at the moment, it just looked like a bunch of burnt curls. My body poorly shaped and marked. The thing that stood out the most was how dead my brown eyes looked. They used to be caramel and auburn that could light up a room. Not they looked like grim, empty voids.  
The bathtub was now full of clear water. I dipped my foot in. It was about scalding. It would probably burn me a bit, it was perfect.  
I stepped in and sat against the hard bottom. The back of the tub dug into my spine. My knees stuck up some from the water, me being over 6 foot made me legs long and lanky.   
I grabbed the knife off the side of the tub. The cold metal met my warm hands and plagued them with a biting breath.   
I twirled the knife a second between my fingers, the feeling made me calmer, my nerves were stronger than ever before.   
Finally, I gripped the handle correctly and held out my arm.   
The blade dug deep into my arm and possibly my being as I ran it vertically up my arm. Blood started pouring from the open wound. Dying the water a deep red quickly. The long cut up my arm was painful as could be. Tears were falling from my eyes and my teeth clenched tightly. I deserved every second of it I told myself.   
I switched arms, passing the knife into my trembling right hand. The Second cut wasn't nearly as smooth as the first as I wasn't using my dominant hand for obvious reasons.   
The water in the tub was filled with red iron. The smell filled my lungs. My vision started to dot at the corners. Darkness was obvious to me. My head started to fall back against the tile wall. It thudded loudly and echoed through the empty house that I refused to call home.   
I was dying, it felt like nothing ever before. I was calmer than I had Ever been. My thoughts falling into place. I couldn't help but wonder who would find my rotting corpse. Maybe my mum, crying and sobbing,trying to bring back somehow. Maybe my dad, yelling for help, checking my still pulse.   
As my vision started to fade out, so that I couldn't make out a thing. I wondered if my life was worth it. Was my life worth a simple boy? To most, no, I was stupid. To me, Phil gave me meaning, without him, I wasn't me, l wasn't Daniel Howell. I was nothing. A vessel waiting to wither away.   
My eyes slipped close as a sudden tiredness overtook me.   
~~~~~~  
‘DANIEL JAMES HOWELL, COMMITTED SUICIDE AT 17 IN READING’   
Daniel James Howell, a gay, 17 year old boy who went to school at a high school in his home town of Reading committed suicide last night at 11:37 pm in his bathtub. Was found by his mother who had no clue of her son’s suffering.   
Daniel left a note on his bed that read, “If You're reading this, I'm probably dead. I, Daniel James Howell have committed suicide. Mum, Dad I'm sorry, you never did anything really, you just tried to look out for me. But you didn't ask about my day anymore and you stopped calling me down for dinner. If you guys cared, which I always thought you did, you didn't show it. You're all probably wondering why I did it. As silly as it may sound, I did it because of a gorgeous boy named Phil Lester. Phil was my everything, he was my life, my world revolved around him. Phil left me. He left me for whores and one night stands. Phil if you're reading this, why…why. I loved you, I cared for you like you never would know. You acted as if you loved me too. Did you? If you did, why did you fucking leave Me? Phil, I was starting to tear when you found me, you put me back together. You kept me a whole. Then you abandoned me like I didn't matter, like I was a slut that didn't deserve to be loved. For months I got beat up and bullied to no end. I failed every class, I cried every night, my wrists held cuts that would one day end me. Why? Why didn't you love me?” A teenage tragedy, remember parents, check on your kids and make sure they're okay. Daniel obviously wasn't, who's to say your child doesn't need help too. Daniel’s calling hours will be Saturday, the 19th at noon at St. Mary's Funeral Home on Michelin Rd.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment saying if you liked this story and give me prompts, I'm more than happy to write for you guys. Thanks <3 ~Jess


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